Definition
by ModernNinja
Summary: What defines a person? Labels, handed out and plastered on like price tags? Or does definition come from within, from the sum of memories and experience? Personality? Money? Power? AU, SasukexOC
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING! This story contains some vulgar language! I couldn't decide between rating it teen or mature. And this story is definitely a big ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! It's SasukexOC. The OC is mine. I don't own anything of Naruto.**

* * *

What defines a person?

Labels, handed out and plastered on like price tags? Or does definition come from within, from the sum of memories and experience?

Whenever I walk down the halls of Whitman High, I hear them all around me. Verbal bullets, aimed to cut, to bruise, to crack.

"Bitch."

"Freak."

"Slut."

"Ugly."

I've seen it happen to others, what they are trying to do to me. I've seen boys and girls alike turn to drugs, alcohol, cutting; any form of escape they can find. Why does labeling have such a big effect on our lives? Why do people feel the need to join in?

"What happened today, Chalice?"

It's my dad, speaking softly through the door. The one person I feel I can confide in, but I never do.

"Nothing, father," I say tiredly back, pulling the sleeves of my white sweater over my hands, trying to cover up the slowly darkening bruises.

He is silent for a moment, but then sighs and moves away from the door.

"Dinner is in a couple of hours."

"Alright," I call back, then fall back on my bed and stare at the ceiling. The scrapes on my hands sting; I really shouldn't have punched that guy, but it felt good to stop his trash talk. Not to mention putting a little fear in his eyes. A lock would have been so much more effective. Why, with all my martial arts experience, did I have to just go for a punch? I blew away a wave of brown hair that was drifting into my face and sat up, reaching for my backpack. Thinking about that dick wouldn't do anything. I should get my homework done before my mother got home.

My mother's arrival home was marked, as always, loudly. Today she came in colliding with walls and giggling crazily. She was almost assuredly drunk. I glanced out the window to see the darkening sky, clouds gliding in, rumbling with thunder. The air smelled crisp and wet, the scent that was purely labeled 'rainstorm'. Maybe I better get outside for a while, even if it did rain. I tried to be away whenever mother started screaming. Glancing over to my door, I checked to see if it was locked then moved over to the window. As I pushed it open, a gust of wind blew into the room, stinging my skin with a few icy raindrops. I slung my jean-clad legs over the edge and stopped for a moment. Was that mother pounding up the stairs?

"Chalice! Chalice, get out here right now!"

Crap. I quickly tried to climb back in, but my jeans caught on a nail stuck in the side of the house. Urgently, I tried to yank it free, but I felt myself tipping. The door was shuddering as mother pounded on it, her screams drowned by father's yells. Then, slowly, inevitably, I felt myself sliding outside. I flailed my legs, gripped the window sill with my hands, feeling splinters driving into my palms, trying to get back inside. I grabbed for a water pipe protruding from the side of the house and swung myself onto it as my wooden windowsill cracked away. Precariously, I dangled from my hands, breathing hard as my body thrummed with fear and my hands stung. I felt something warm coursing down my calf and glanced down to see that I had cut myself. On the nail, maybe? I looked from my calf to the ground, judging the distance I had to fall. It wasn't that far; there was a hedge as well. Still, I didn't know if I wanted to risk it.

My indecision was solved when I heard my door burst open. "Chalice? Chalice! Where are you, you little…"

I released my grip, which was already slick from rain, and fell.

For a few moments, I seemed to float, suspended in the air. Then reality returned with a crunch and a snap. I twisted around in the bush, keeping my eyes closed tight. I felt fine, other than a few scratches. I finally worked my way out and rolled onto the ground, lying on my back. Rain slid down my face, streaking cold trails down my cheeks. Trying to catch my breath, I stopped for a moment and looked back up to my window.

I was looking right up into the startled face of my mother. Silence stretched on, broken only by Slowly, her face twisted into anger. When she spoke, the words hissed through clenched teeth.

"Chalice," she said, glaring at me. "Chalice, you get your little ass up here right now. Right this instant. I expect you to clean this up and to sit in your room until I come to deal with you."

I stared up at my mother, platinum hair tangled around her face, light blue eyes outlined with too much makeup. The face I have nothing from. My father hovers anxiously in the background. I have none of his reddish hair, or his blue eye color. My golden brown hair, my tawny eyes all come from elsewhere. I am struck with a sudden, boiling feeling that takes me a moment to identify. Hate. Hate and anger, all bubbling and roiling inside of me. I no longer want anything to do with that woman. Or my father, for that matter. I used to think that I could confide in him, that I could tell him my feelings and he would listen. He could have stopped my mother's abuse. Did he do anything about? No. In my mind, he is just as much at fault as the monster of that woman.

Slowly, I stand up, never breaking the glare between the woman leaning out the window and me. Deliberately, I brush my jeans off, ignoring pricks of pain in my hands, and turn away from the house. I stick my middle finger up in the air behind me.

"Later," I call, and break into a run.

I don't know how long I ran for. For a while, I heard them shouting behind me, racing after me, but I soon left them in the dust. Now they were in our car, still chasing after me. Whenever I saw the flash of a streetlight glinting off a white paintjob, I would dive into bushes or duck down alley ways to avoid them. I slowly made my way to Julia Davis Park, a park where I often took shelter from my parents. I was stumbling by the time I sagged onto a swing, rattling the chain as I grabbed onto it. The air was frosty, unusually cold for the time of year. The rain had frozen into cold, white snowflakes that fell silently through the air. My hair, wet from rain, froze into stiff, icy strands. My breath puffed out in tiny white clouds as I panted. I closed my eyes, chest still heaving, and leaned my head against the cold chain. Then the horrible realization of what I had done crossed my mind. Breath rushed out of my lungs in a harsh hiss and my shoulders shuddered. What a stupid, stupid thing to do. Putting up with abuse would have been better then freezing or starving to death. Moisture began to collect in my eyes and I furiously scrubbed the back of my hand across my eyelids. I couldn't afford to cry now; I had to figure out what to do. I tugged my hands back inside my sleeves and vigorously rubbed my arms, trying to keep from shivering. Goosebumps pricked all over my body. The temperature was dropping as the night drew on. I winced when my numb hands started stinging and looked down to see blood on my sweater, then checked the cut on my calf. I pulled back my sleeves and saw splinters of wood stuck in my palms. I began to pull them out, wincing when the wood pulled at my skin.

Suddenly, I heard voices.

I jerked my head around and stared into the shadows surrounding me. The light from street lamps seemed very far away, swallowed up by the snow.

Raucous laughter broke out from behind me, and I sprang off the swing, trying urgently to locate the voices.

"Hey there, darling! Why you out so late?"

"Hi Sugar! Come hang out with us!"

"Look, man, she scared! Hey, don't be scared girly!"

Three men staggered out of a stand of trees and advanced towards me. Dark bottles hung from their hands, amber liquid occasionally sloshing out the top.

"You're pretty girly! Come here," called one of the men as he came closer. The three were close enough to touch now. I could see their twisted grins, the crazy light in their eyes. All three looked rich, dressed in nice clothes with intentional tears and cuts and good leather jackets. One of them reached out to pat my side and I jerked away. Fear drummed through my veins and accelerated my heartbeat, as well as some anger. Here come the labels again. Just because I was out late, I must be lost or a slut. When another reached for my face, I quickly grabbed his wrist and thrust my arm under his, grabbing my other wrist. The keylock twisted his arm into a ninety degree angle and when pressure was violently applied, the lock could dislocate the shoulder. It was this I tried for now. I cranked his arm back, applying more pressure at once then I ever had in class. Immediately there was a cracking noise and the man screamed in pain. He struggled away from me and kneeled to the ground, clutching his shoulder.

"You bitch!" he shrieked. I whirled to face the other men and quickly stepped into another man to execute a hip throw. He came in for a punch and I caught it, trapping it to my side before pivoting and throwing him over my outstretched leg. When he fell to the ground I jumped to straddle him and rolled him on top of me, slipping a little on the collecting snow. I quickly locked my legs around his torso and my arms around his neck, simultaneously crushing all my limbs together in a sleeper choke. The breath rushed out of his body in a mighty whoosh and I heard a few ribs crack. He barely had enough air to moan. Suddenly, explosively, my head snapped back and my mouth filled with blood as the third man kicked my face. Gagging from blood and the smell of alcohol, I released the man and got on my hands and feet, crawling away. I struggled to my feet, head ringing, but staggered down again when the third man punched my face. My head was dragged back when one of the men wrenched back my hair, glaring at me. I choked slightly on blood slipping down my throat.

"You're turning out to be more trouble then you seemed."

My head snapped back again when the man with the dislocated shoulder punched my face as well.

"Little slut," he snarled in my face.

"Come on, let's get this going," growled one of them. Hands began ripping at my shirt and jeans. I writhed in their grip, biting one man's hand, ignoring the blows raining down on me.

"I've had enough of this!" one man yelled, pulling something from his jacket. "Hold her arm out."

Terrified, I bucked around, trying to escape, but their grips were like iron. I felt the man raise his hand up, than bring it down onto my arm. Intense pain burst out in my arm with a _crack_, and I screamed. The man put the metal pipe he used to hit me with back in his pocket and kicked my arm. I cried out again, pain radiating all the way to my shoulder. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep moisture from running down my cheeks.

"Okay, girl," said the man with the pipe, kneeling down. "Here's how things are going to happen. Every time you struggle, we break a bone. Simple enough?"

I summoned up saliva in my dry mouth and spat at him.

He jerked back, wiping his face disgustedly. "Alright," he hissed at me. "There goes a couple fingers."

"Hold her down," he said eerily calm, drawing out the pipe again. I tensed up, straining against their holds. Just as he brought the pipe back to strike, another voice came out of nowhere.

"I don't think you want to do that."

The man started and looked behind me. His eyebrows drew together in a frown like clouds sliding across the sun.

"Just who the hell are you?" he demanded, standing up and taking a step forward.

"The one who's going to kick your ass," said the calm voice. "For not knowing your place."

"Alright buddy, look-"

Suddenly there was a sharp _smack_, like flesh meeting flesh, and the pipe clanged to the ground. Soon after followed the sound of the man's body collapsing to the ground with a soft moan. Silence roared in my ears as the last note of the ringing pipe died away. The two men holding me down jumped and let go of me. Their faces slowly twisted into fear as they backed away.

"I don't think so," said the dark voice again. A blur appeared in my peripheral vision and slammed into one of the men, who crumpled like a can. The other one was already running away, stumbling and clawing at the air.

"Humph. I expected more of a fight."

The figure that turned to me was a boy. A teenager, probably about sixteen, my age. He was dressed all in black. I couldn't see much more then that because my vision was blurring. I struggled to sit up, but fell to my back with a cry as my arm shrieked in protest.

"You probably shouldn't move," said the teen, kneeling next to me.

"Leave me alone!" I scooted away from him, holding my arm to my chest.

He snorted. "I'm not going to hurt you. Why are you out so late?"

I blinked, trying to think through the pounding in my head. My body was wracked with shudders and my whole body was numb.

"I think I was…running away?"

He frowned, reaching for my cradled arm.

"From what? Home?"

As he spoke he examined my arm between his hands. Now that he was closer, I could see details. Pale skin, spiky dark hair, dark eyes. He was taller than me, and a mix between lithe and muscular. Three silver hoops glittered along the top of his ear. I could see part of a black, Celtic-design tattoo on the side of his neck.

"I-I think so," I said, wincing as his fingers probed a little too hard.

The pressure of his fingers lessened immediately and continued feeling for a moment before moving away. He sighed.

"Then I suppose taking you home is out of the question then, if you ran away. Can you walk?"

"Yes."

I slowly get to my knees, than my feet, wobbling slightly as the pounding in my head intensified. The boy stood silently to the side, watching my shuddering frame. I felt a wave a nausea rising but determinedly swallowed it down. I took a step, then another, before the shaking in my body overcame my will to stand.

He smirked next to me. "I guess that's a 'no' on walking, then."

"Shut up," I said, holding my head in my hands, shaking from cold.

He smirked again. Standing up, he pulled me to my feet, than swung me onto his back.

"H-hey!" I call, my eyes popping open and my legs locking around his waist. "What are you doing? Let me down!"

"Well, we're never going to get anywhere otherwise," he said, beginning to walk away from the swings in the direction of the richer subdivisions. "I'm going to take you to my house, to see if my dad can get that arm checked."

"No, I don't need to, it's-"

"Don't say it's fine," he said, his voice suddenly colder. "No one could go through that and just be fine. Besides, you ran away from home. Where are you going to go?"

It was silent for a moment, before I murmured, more to myself then to him, "I just might surprise you."

He laughed softly.

Darkness began creeping up in the corners of my vision. My head became heavy with all the pounding. I rested it against the back of his neck, too tired to hold my neck straight, too tired to care that I didn't know him. I kept shivering, numb, even against the heat of his body. He smelled nice. Clean. Like soap and apples and a personal scent I couldn't name. Then one thought occurred to me.

"What's your name?"

"Tell me yours first."

"Mine?" My head hurt too much to wonder about his smooth rebuttal. "It's Chalice."

"Chalice," he said softly. "That is an unusual name."

Just before the darkness overcame my vision, I caught his reply.

"My name is Sasuke Uchiha."

_Uchiha?_

* * *

**Alright, so I know the fight scene might have been kinda confusing, especially the terms 'sleeper choke', 'keylock', etcetera. So I found a couple videos from the taekwondo center I train at (you can trust they are legit) to help you understand. Sadly, I couldn't find a link for the sleeper choke.**

**My first story! Please review and tell me if I should continue.**

**Also, tell me if I should up the rating one more because of de language! Yeah, I'm a coward, haha.**

**Keylock= watch?v=-iGVK9fFncc&feature=player_embedded **

**Hip throw= watch?v=9oKmqOeEXqw&feature=player_embedded#!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright! Chapter two is up! Lots of dialogue in this one…As always, I don't own anything Naruto-related. Thanks for reading and**

**make sure to review.**

* * *

I woke up with one word ringing around my head.

_He's an Uchiha?_

Last night was fuzzy in my mind. My first few moments awake roiled with a confusing mix of emotions. I was confused, tired, scared. Where was I?

The room was poorly lit with a golden dawn light which warmed the predominant color in the simple yet elegant room, which was white. The walls were bare, aside from a window on one wall and an ornate mirror on the other. The bed I was in was pushed into a corner, and a desk was in the opposite, a brown metal lamp resting ontop. There was a door to my right. It was ajar.

I slowly sat up, reveling in the delicious feeling of warmth. The bed was strewn with an array of comforters and fuzzy bedspreads. I stretched slowly, groaning, feeling sore all over. I winced and leaned down, reaching under the covers to knead my calf muscles. My fingers caressed a soft bandage, covering where the nail had cut me.

Looking over to the mirror on the left wall, I stared at my face. It actually wasn't that bad, considering. There was a purple bruise stretching along my right jaw and another crossing under my eye onto the bridge of my nose, as well as a few scrapes. That eye looked slightly shadowed, but not black. My right forearm was encased in a white black cast, stark against the clean white room. I gazed at the black, the memories of last night flooding back in full detail. I shuddered, small senses coming to my mind. The sound of the ringing pipe, the smacking impact of skin on skin. The taste of coppery blood, the vile taste on the men's hands. The scent of spilled alcohol and the frosty snow. Then, cutting through the lingering pain of the pipe against my arm, came memories of soft dark hair, the scent of apples and soap, and the glint off of silver piercings. I looked around, seeing no one in the room besides myself. Where was the man who called himself Sasuke Uchiha?

I pushed my hair back from my face with shaky hands. I can't believe I'd actually met an Uchiha. For a low class girl like me, there had been virtually no chance of seeing one, let alone meeting one. The Uchiha's were an extremely rich, albeit arrogant, family that worked as Executive Protection. That meant that they took jobs as bodyguards for dignitaries, politicians, the president, etcetera. The family, consisting of the parents, Fugaku and Mikoto, and their prodigious sons, Itachi and Sasuke, as well as many other family members, hired out their services all over the world. Last I heard they were over in Japan protecting some American politicians.

I swung my legs out from under the blankets and rested my bare feet on the creamy shag carpet, noting absent mindedly that I was dressed in new jeans and a form-fitting black T-shirt. It was time to find out what was going on. As I stood up, the room rolled unsteadily, but slowly stopped. I took one cautious step, then another one, gradually regaining my balance. The door was open just a crack. Carefully curling my fingers around the edge, I pulled it open a bit more, scanning the hallway beyond. Several closed doors lined the left side, continuing all the way down to the opposite end. On the right, the room flared out into a huge open space, a curling metal railing along the edge. Carpeted stairs wound down to another floor. On the ceiling over the open space, a crystal chandelier reflected golden light coming in from a myriad of windows. Taking a step out into the hallway, I cocked my head, listening. Faint music was coming from the door closest to mine. It sounded like beat boxing, with a heavy, thumping techno beat. I moved to stand outside the door and listened closer.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did he wake you up?"

I started violently at the soft voice and whirled around, fists raised, ready to attack or defend. I blinked when I saw a woman standing there, hands curled around a white dishrag. She was about middle –aged, with long dark hair framing her face and pale skin. An amiable light gleamed in her dark eyes. I blinked again, clearing my throat.

"No! Uh, no. I just was just, um…" I trailed off, staring at her. "You look like Sasuke!"

She laughed gently. "Actually, Sasuke looks a lot like me." She smiled. "I am Mikoto Uchiha."

"Oh," I said, eyes wide. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She said, coming towards me. "It's my son who should be sorry, for waking you. Hold on for a moment, please," she said calmly. She stepped beside me to knock on the door.

"Sasuke? Sasuke, your guest is awake. I'm going to show her around the house. Make yourself presentable and find Fugaku. Tell him I want to speak with him. Alright?"

There was a muffled "K'ay," from inside the room. Mikoto turned to me and smiled.

"Come with me."

She turned and pointed back at the room I woke up in. "That is our guest room." She pointed back at the room where the music had been coming. "That's Sasuke's room. He usually plays music, so I hope it doesn't bother you."

Mikoto quickly gave me a tour of the upstairs, pointing out her and Fugaku's room, Itachi's room and several offices. I only remembered flashes and impressions. A bit of a cherry wood desk. A painting of vibrant colors. A wall of elegant metal work.

"Now," she said, leading me down the stairs. "I need to talk with you and Fugaku."

We passed another teenager on the stairs. He had the same the dark hair and eyes and pale skin as the rest of the Uchiha's I had met, except his hair was long and gathered into a low ponytail. Long tear troughs were pronounced underneath his eyes. He was probably two years older than me. Smiling at Mikoto, he shuffled a few papers in his hands and shoved a grey cell phone into his jeans pocket.

"Itachi," Mikoto said warmly.

"Hey, mom," he said. He turned to me, acknowledging me with a polite nod. "Who is this?"

Mikoto waited patiently for me to answer.

"My name is Chalice Mikaelson," I said. Immediately Itachi's face darkened slightly.

"Mikaelson? Are you the daughter of that…screwed up couple?"

"Itachi!" exclaimed Mikoto, aghast. I looked to her and shook my head, slightly miffed at the way I had been labeled.

"No, that's the best description I've heard of them, actually. Yes, they are screwed up. That's why I ran away."

She was silent for a moment, studying my face. Then she sighed. "Where are you thinking of going then? You can't live on the streets."

Now I was silent. I had no idea where I was going to go. I looked down at my bare feet. My fists clenched.

"I don't know," I admitted. Mikoto sighed next to me.

"Well, all the better I talk to Fugaku." She turned to Itachi. "Do you know where he is?"

"I thought Sasuke was getting him," he said. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket, checking the screen. "Well, I gotta go. Shisui and I are meeting up." He climbed the stairs past us and disappeared into his room.

"Alright then. Come on Chalice, this way," Mikoto said, descending the stairs once again. She led me to the right where a bunch of ottomans and couches rested in creamy tones. "Have a seat please, and tell me why you ran away."

At least an hour passed as I told Mikoto my story. How it all started at school. How I climbed out the window, then how I ran. How I fought against the men and how Sasuke came to save me. When I was done, we both sat silently for what seemed was a long, long time. Suddenly there were footsteps. A man swept into the room, grey jacket fluttering, stern onyx eyes flashing. His short dark hair reached to his shoulders and underneath his eyes were the same pronounced tear troughs Itachi had inherited.

"Fugaku," said Mikoto, shaking herself out of the daze my story had left her in. "How nice of you to join us."

He studied me with his stern gaze, than turned back the way he had come. "Sasuke, come in here. I need your side of the story as well."

My eyes were drawn to him as Sasuke stepped into the room.

He was dressed all in black again, dark jeans and a T-shirt with Celtic designs like his tattoo picked out in red. His bangs framed his face, and his hair spiked around in gentle points. The light streaming in from the windows flashed off of the three silver hoops in his ear and lit up the contrast between the black ink of the tattoo on his neck against his pale skin.

"Your name is Chalice, isn't it?"

I turned to Fugaku, who had seated himself by Mikoto on a low couch. Sasuke perched on the edge of an ottoman, looking directly at me.

"Yes, sir."

"Please, call me Fugaku," he said, amiably waving a hand. Then his expression became serious. "So, you ran away. I presume you have a good reason for doing so?"

I bit my lip. "Yes." I looked straight at him. "My parents were…are abusive. And no matter what you say, I'm not going back there."

He shook his head. "I wasn't thinking of sending you back. I was wondering whether or not to call authorities or not." He peered at me for a moment. "Do you have any living relations?"

"No," I replied, my heartbeat jacking up the moment he mentioned authorities. "But please, Fugaku, don't tell anyone. I can handle myself. I could live on the streets."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "The confidence of youth." Turning to Sasuke, he told him "Tell me again what happened last night."

"I was walking out by the park," began Sasuke, his low voice rolling around the room, "when I heard a commotion. I went to investigate to find a girl," at this his eyes flicked to me "Chalice, being attacked by three men. At first she handled herself well, executing several martial arts maneuvers, but was overwhelmed. I started running and knocked out two of the men after they broke her arm."

I touched my cast softly.

"After that I saw to her arm, spoke with her, determined that she needed medical help and brought her here."

"Thank you, Sasuke," said Fugaku, turning to me. His dark eyes studied mine for a moment. Then he shook his head and declared, "I think the best possible solution for the moment if for Chalice to take refuge with us. If people ask, she is training here under our program." He looked to Mikoto. "It would be best if you actually taught her a few things, so if she needed to prove it…"

"Of course," said Mikoto, smiling and bowing her head. "I would be delighted to."

"So!" bellowed Fugaku, standing. "Chalice, from this point on you are enrolled in an exclusive Uchiha Executive Protection program. The guest room is yours." And with that, he swept out of the room, just as he had come in.

_He's a brief man_, I thought.

Mikoto smiled and stood as well. "Congratulations on making the program." She winked, and went out after Fugaku.

Leaving me alone with Sasuke.

I stood and looked over to see that he had done the same thing. We gazed at each other for a moment before he broke the silence, asking;

"Are you alright? Not too…shaky from last night?"

I couldn't read the intentions behind his dark eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine." Having nothing else to say, I lapsed into silence. He studied me for a moment more before smirking and turning away.

"Meet me in the dojo in half an hour," he casually tossed over his shoulder as he left the room. "You can ask Mikoto where it is."

"What? Why?" I stuttered, taken aback by his sudden demand.

His only answer was a short, amused laugh.

* * *

**Dun Dun Dun! :D Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh my gosh, finally! The third chapter up! My FanFiction was totally screwed up for a while. Wasn't working at all. But it is now! So. Third chapter. Please read and review :)**

**I don't own anything Naruto or Naruto related.**

* * *

I hit the floor mats hard, the air _whooshing_ out of my lungs. Even with Sasuke supporting me, I hit hard enough to leave a bruise.

Sasuke looked down at me with amusement, still holding my arm, his knee still outstretched.

"And _that_ is how you do a hip throw."

"Oh, shut it," I grinned back at him. He released my arm so I could spring back onto my feet.

"Want to try?" he asked, bringing his fists up in a ready position. I nodded and brought my own fists up. As Sasuke came at me, a flurry of punches flying at me, I dodged a couple, weaving and slipping, before finding an opening and grabbing his arm. Quickly I tucked it against my body and slipped one leg in front of his before pivoting and throwing his body over my knee. As he fell, he twisted his arm away from my grip and slipped into a backwards roll, coming back up into a ready position.

"You're going to have to show me how to do that," I grumbled, stepping back.

He smirked coolly. "That was better. Might even be able to use it in a fight."

I huffed, reaching back to tighten my ponytail. "I seem to recall being able to beat some other trainees with my _inferior_ techniques.

"I suppose." He smiled, and looked at the clock mounted on the wall, slowly frowning as he did so. "Sorry, can't practice the arm bars right now. I've got some…business to take care of."

I frowned as I untied my belt. The change in Sasuke was palpable. He had gone from smiling fellow trainee to brooding teen. "Not anything too serious?"

He laughed, a short, curt sound. He untied his belt as well and turned away, slinging it over his shoulder.

"I wish. See you around later."

I nodded to his retreating back and left for the changing rooms.

* * *

I had been with the Uchiha's for a month now. I'd quickly fallen into the rhythm of their lifestyle; family meals, lessons and training. Lots and lots of training. In addition to a myriad of martial arts techniques, Mikoto taught me other skills, like using weapons. All the meals were eaten together; it was not uncommon to see several trainees to show up as well. Itachi and Sasuke were homeschooled, as was I. Lessons were nearly first thing in the morning, opening up the afternoons and evenings for training. Weekends were our days off. We could do anything we liked on Saturday and Sunday. I often trained with Sasuke in the evenings, as I did today.

"Although," I mused aloud, "he's never left like that before." I brushed my hair back, wet after my shower, and dried it once more with a towel before tossing it in my bedside drawer. I reached for my I-pod where it rested on my pillow and plugged the ear buds in. The I-pod had been Sasuke's until he gave it to me, so it had a lot of thumping techno rhythms. I didn't mind in the least, though. I had developed quite a taste for it. Setting it to a harder, rocking beat, I reached over and pulled out a notebook from my desk drawer.

"Alright! Which should I do first, math or language?" I muttered to myself, pulling out two textbooks as well. I sighed. "They both suck, so I'll be bored either way."

It was eleven at night when I finally threw down my pencil in frustration.

"Ugh! I'll need help with this," I growled, glaring balefully at the stupid equations. "I wonder if Sasuke is still awake?"

I scooped up the math textbook and notebook before quietly cracking open the door and slipping out into the dark hallway. The crescent moon gleamed dully, providing a slight bit of light as I crept along. I went to Sasuke's door and tapped it gently. I didn't worry about him being asleep, as he was usually awake until one in the morning. I was slightly worried about if he was going to be there or not. I hadn't seen him since he left after our training. I tapped on the door again.

"Sasuke?" I called softly, silently easing his door open. The dull moon bathed his dark bedspread in soft light and reflected off the dull shine of his stereo, but didn't illuminate his form.

"Strange," I murmured to myself, closing the door quietly. I returned to my room, throwing the books on my bed. I gazed out the window, feeling hot and bothered, aggravated at the math. I wondered what it would be like outside and instantly a plan formed in my mind. I crossed the room to my window and unlatched it before pushing it open, wincing at the drawn out creak. Sliding my legs over the sill, I remembered that one night that had brought me to the Uchiha family. I smiled. Now that night was one of my most treasured memories, if not the most pleasant. I hadn't heard anything from my parents since; that was the way I liked it. I looked down to see what my landing would be like. I was on the second floor, so the drop wasn't that far. There was a nice convenient hedge as well, to break my fall. I slid my legs over the edge so I hung by my hands, then let go. I dropped silently and landed on the balls of my feet, dropping to my knees and rolling to expend momentum. I rolled onto a knee and smoothly stood up. Grinning at the moon, I stretched my arms over my head, pleased with my controlled descent. I began to walk over the perfect, green manicured lawn towards the shadowed green house, passing in and out of the dappled shade cast by the willowy trees. Reaching the glass doors, I slid open one and stepped inside, glad to be out of the chilly air. It was cold for November. I inhaled the scent of damp earth and green, living things and closed the door behind me. My impatience and frustration ebbed away into the cool air. I leaned my forehead against the door, sighing as I felt calm again.

Suddenly, something clinked.

I whirled around, immediately searching the shadows in the greenhouse. I stared hard, probing in corners and underneath tables. I saw nothing.

"Hello?" I called, my voice hard. Silence stretched on in the greenhouse.

"Hello?" I called again, taking a step forward.

"Hey, Chalice," came a smooth, low voice. A voice I knew.

"Sasuke?"

More clinking noises. I realized that they were bottles. A dark form detached itself from the wall glided towards me, bringing with it a smell I was all too familiar with. I stepped back, against the glass.

"Sasuke. You aren't…drunk, are you?"

"Chalice," he said, stopping in front of me. His face was shadowed, his eyes hidden. There was a scent of alcohol, barely discernible underneath the smell of earth and plants.

"Sasuke…" I reached behind me for the door handle, pulling it open. "I think I should go now."

I jumped as his hand shot out and slammed the door shut. He leaned his face up close to mine and growled, "I am _not_ drunk."

I flinched.

He slowly leaned in and rested his head on my shoulder, his breathing irregular. I swallowed, feeling his soft dark hair against my neck. "I'm just…tired." I felt something damp against my skin. Was he crying? The thought was incredulous.

"Sasuke, are you alright?" I asked softly, incredulously. I heard a soft, broken hum.

"Yes. I'm fine. Just…stay still. For a while." Sasuke slid his hands down my shoulders and locked them behind my back.

I slowly slid my hands behind his back and leaned my head against his, still confused about his behavior. We stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. I didn't mind, though. Something felt nice, felt right, when Sasuke was close.

"I've killed someone before," Sasuke said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "He was young. Too young. Sixteen, like us." He tightened his hold on me, nuzzled his face closer against the joint where my neck and shoulder met. "I was on a job, in Shanghai. Our employer was in danger. He was targeted by a local gang, a band of…younger men. Between fifteen and twenty-four at the most. The man, or boy, really, was getting too close to killing our employer, so I had to take him out. I know it was my job, but…" He paused, and I felt his fingers clench. "Right before he died, he begged me not to kill him. On his knees, begging. I killed a teenager. That's why-that's why I-"

"Shh," I said softly, reaching up to slide one hand through the soft hair on the back of his neck. Not knowing what else to say, I just continued to smooth his hair.

The light in the greenhouse dulled, making me look up at the sky. Without my noticing, clouds had rolled across the sky, obscuring the light of the moon. White flakes had begun to fall, creating a thin crisp blanket over everything.

"Sasuke," I said, pushing me slightly away from me. He only tightened his grip, pressing me against him. "Sasuke, it's snowing." I felt him shift his head and look out the window.

"So it is," He sighed. "I guess that means we have to get back inside."

"Um…" I mumbled. "How do we get back in? I jumped out a window to get out."

"We can climb up," he said, loosening his grip and pulling away. His face was completely composed. "Follow me." He reached behind me for the door and pulled it open and I followed him out. He still held onto my hand.

We both walked quickly across the soft lawn, feeling cold flakes fall onto our cheeks. I shivered, a slight wind cutting through my thin shirt. Reaching the side of the house, Sasuke went over to his window and pointed to the rope there.

"I use that to climb in and out," he said. "I'll go first." He quickly grasped the rope and hoisted himself up, reaching the window in a matter of seconds.

"Show-off," I muttered, gripping the rope with cold hands. Using my knees to hold the rope as well, I climbed up almost as quickly as he had, but much less gracefully. Grabbing the hand he held out to pull me the least few feet, I vaulted in and landed softly on the carpeted ground. He pulled the rope back inside and coiled it into large coils with the practiced moves of one who had done it many times before. I stood awkwardly next to his bed against the wall as he stowed the rope away in the closet and quietly moved to close the glass window pane. He lingered by the window for a moment more, a faint reflection in the glass staring back at me. I shuffled my feet as the silence stretched on. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"So. I guess I'm going to go back to my room then," I whispered into the silence. There was no reply. Taking that for acceptance, I turned and reached the door, but halted as his voice pierced the room.

"Don't."

I turned in confusion drawing my hand back from the door. "What?"

He turned to the bed and sat before looking up to me. "Come here. Please."

"Okay?" I said, the question evident in my voice. I crossed the room and sat cautiously next to him. As far as I knew, he was drunk.

His dark eyes regarded me for a moment, and I caught the surprising glint of his white teeth as he smiled. He mumbled something to himself, and laughed softly.

"What is it?" I asked, slightly frustrated. I leaned in closer to try and catch what he was saying.

Which was partially why I was so caught off guard as he leaned in and kissed me.

* * *

**I hope I didn't make Sasuke too terribly OOC...bah. **

**You know what makes me happy? Reviews! (hinthintnudgenudge)**


End file.
